


Red Black White

by Skeletorific



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Apprentice OCs, Canon Divergence, Custom Apprentice - Freeform, F/M, Female Apprentice (The Arcana), Gen, Red Plague (The Arcana), Two Apprentice AU, apprentice death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22097299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeletorific/pseuds/Skeletorific
Summary: Self indulgent ficlet for a friend and mine's joint apprentice timeline. Also some backstory digging for the plague/pre-plague time period.
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana), Apprentice/Muriel (The Arcana)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Red Black White

_ Black _

The shop is lively and full of colors. Asra has been staring in its windows longingly ever since he first took to the streets, anxious to touch it, play with every new device on its shelves. But there had always been things more important to buy with what little money a pair of pre-teens could scrape together. Food, blankets, healing supplies, clothes for Muriel’s ever-growing body and some for him when his own body shot up. 

But things had been better since they had found the hut. Its enclosed walls and relative isolation meant they spent less on ways to keep warm, and were less likely to get robbed. Muriel had taken in a couple chickens, and between their eggs and the berries and herbs in the surrounding woods, they found they needed to spend less and less on food. And for the first time in years he found himself with more money than he knew what to do with. Muriel had fiercely declined any attempt Asra made to spend money on him, and at long last, the sights and sounds of the shop beckoned...

The bellring over the door was punctuated by a sharp bang as he crossed the threshold, making him duck and look over his head. The shopkeep, a middle-aged woman in a dark green tunic, was startled out of her greeting and turned to look at girl around his age. Soot covered her face and hands, nearly as black as her hair, and she stood sheepishly as her aunt berated her for playing with the artifacts.

“Excuse me” Asra said quietly. “but....I don’t think that was the artifact.”

A silence fell over the shop.

“Excuse me?” The aunt said, but the girl....the girl looked pale. Like a child caught in a secret. And Asra’s own violet eyes glinted...

_ White _

Over the next few months the neighborhood grows used to the sight of a shock of curly white hair bobbing through the streets towards the magic shop. Kai learns to wait by the window and try to spot him before he arrives. 

The day he’d outed her as a magician had been a whirlwind of confusion and yelling. Her odd tricks and mishaps were suddenly no longer inexplicable accidents but latent power. Kai hadn’t been hiding it, exactly, just....sheltering it. Afraid of pulling it out too early, of showing it off only to find it wasn’t as special as she thought it was.

Asra had agreed to teach her in exchange for access to her aunt’s shop. More and more often he slept in her backrooms, worn out from their lessons. And as the months drew on she came to look forward to these lessons more than anything else, to the mischievous grin that provoked her and persuaded her in the same moment.

The sly teenager is not like anyone she has ever met before, and she has a sneaking suspicion she will never meet anyone like him again. Her skills had improved by leaps and bounds where they had once only crawled along.

More than that, his arrival had meant freedom to her. She had always stuck close to the homes of her parents, cousins, aunts and uncles, content within the confines of her family’s houses and stalls and shops, among the familiar settings with the occasional new trinket to provide novelty. But Asra carried a restlessness that was infectious, and following his lead, she found herself in areas of the city she would never have thought to venture. Somehow he could make it feel like a home in itself. 

Or maybe it was him that was home.

_ Red _

Four months after they met, the Countess came. Like something out of a storybook, her entourage had swept into the city, and brought with it a raucous party that was magical even by Vesuvian standards. The Count, who for all his faults was never one to leave an occasion unmarked, had declared a week long celebration, and the city streets came alive with festivities, with dancers and vendors and a thousand sights and smells. 

Kai helped Asra pitch his fortune-telling tent and spent the evening in its confines, stifling giggles while they took turns reading fortunes for travellers. Kai examined the masks Asra sold with curiosity (his mysterious friend had talent with a knife), while the magician kept darting out to see the goings-on, always coming back with some treat or trinket that he would slip to her with a glint in his eyes that made no promises to its legality. As usual, Faust travelled with him anywhere he went, and was contently burrowed into his clothes with some snacks, wriggling with excitement.

The night was drawing to a close and they were discussing whether or not they should pack up and venture out into what was left of the stalls when a figure darted in through the flap, face momentarily obscured by a mass of bright red hair. The figure crouched at the far end of the tent, and met their questioning looks with a hasty gesture to be quiet.

Shadows passed by, several men looking around. Asra looked at Kai and nodded as they both lapsed into silence.

“Where’d she go...”

Their mutterings soon faded away into something about little con artists, until eventually they were gone completely. The redhead let out a deep breath, nodded vaguely to them, and got to her feet. 

“Wait” Asra said.

She sighed and turned back, face settling into a scowl that seemed more habit than intention. “I’m leaving. Thanks for the cover.”

“What’s your name?”

“None of your business”

“It might be the guards business.’ Asra said in a sly tone. Kai knew as well as anyone he would never do it but she saw no reason to divulge that. “Especially when I tell them someone’s been peddling false futures.”

The girl’s eyes widened and she crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “I don’t know what you’re-GAH-!”

Faust, seemingly out of nowhere, came over her shoulder, startling her. She took advantage of her momentary surprise to nose her way into her tunic, emerging a moment later with a dingy pack of tarot card wrapped tightly in her coils. There was a little trill noise of triumph from her and Asra grinned as the girl scowled and snatched the cards back from her. 

“They’re not fake” She muttered.

“But not exactly true either?” Asra carefully pulled Faust off of her and handed her to Kai. Kai smiled as Faust wrapped herself snugly around her arm.

“.....its guessing.” She said, like it had been drawn out of her unwillingly. Asra had that effect. “I’m usually right. Sometimes not. Not my business afterwards.”

“Good guesser” Kai noted. “You ducked into the one tent in Vesuvia that wouldn’t have pushed you out.”

“....”

“Show me” Asra said, sitting down and drawing out his own deck.

“....I-”

“Kai, what were you saying about your uncle wanting more reports on fraud magicians?” Kai didn’t need to see him wink to hear it in his tone, and thinking quickly she got to her feet.

“You’re right, I should tell him-”

Rif plopped down in front of the table and snatched the deck, shuffling it with a sour look.

_ Black _

The forest is dense in a way that makes even the open air seem claustrophobic. A few years ago it might have made Kai nervous, but she is rarely nervous now. Not with these two at her side.

Asra has grown tall in the intervening years, shooting up from just-a-bit-taller-than-her to annoyingly-taller-than-her, and he enjoyed rubbing it in every chance he got. To Rif too, but Rif was more than ready to kick him in the shins if it became too much.

The redhead had been less than a willing pupil two years ago when Asra had offered to help her hone her skills and provide her a safety net in exchange for help with his stall. Kai thought that she might have only agreed because she still believed that her imaginary uncle might at any minute drop the iron fist of the law on her head. But time had worn her down, given her a softness that hadn’t been there once. She smiled more easily now, told jokes, and though it seemed nothing could restrain her penchant for dishonesty and gambling, at the very least her heart was more firmly in the right place.

She still dyed her hair the scarlet it had been when they met. She never explained her reasoning behind this, merely said it was something they had done where she grew up. After that it was the end of the matter. The past was a strict no-zone for Rif.

Kai had grown up too, if not much visibly than at least on the inside. She was more than Asra’s equal now, and their study of magic was now more a joint exploration than a teacher-student relationship. He still lived in her aunt’s shop, as the old woman was too fond of him to kick him out. Kai spent more nights there than she did in her own bed, either in a cot....or in bed with him. Not like that, despite her mother’s opinion. Merely side by side. It was...comfortable. Or, not comfortable. Like everything with Asra, it sparked with excitement, with secrets and promises and whispers and made her chest thrill in a way she couldn’t ignore.

Once every week Asra would disappear in the woods. Sometimes, like today, he would take the two of them with him. To see Muriel, see what supplies were lacking, to hunt for herbs and talk and generally take a break from Vesuvian crowds. Rif had been reluctant at first but had apparently warmed to the idea after the last few visits, as she was always quick to ask if Asra needed help.

Kai came to love these trips, love the way Asra’s hand held tightly to hers to guide her on the path. Loved the reckless excitement of hunting for plants, knowing he was waiting in the shadows to scare her and knowing what hex she had planned in retaliation. Loved the calm evenings, gathered around the fire, watching the normally hard and distant expression on Muriel’s face relax into something at least mildly more approachable and Rif and Asra bickering good-naturedly over the meal. Asra would creep closer and closer the later it grew and the sleepier they got, and while Kai would flush and wrestle him off he seemed to know this was embarassment, not genuine dislike. 

Eventually Muriel would go to bed and Rif would start to doze, Faust settling on her stomach, and then they would be left to talk, watching the fire die to ashes as the darkness of the forest overtook them.

“Sometimes you’re like a cactus, I’m never sure where to put my hands on you without getting pricked.” Asra said, gently teasing as an arm slipped around her waist.

“Shoosh” She said, letting herself relax just a bit, freed by the lack of eyes on them. “Those thorns are there for a reason.”

“And what reason is that” He said, mouth centimeters from her temple. The unspoken creating a last barrier between them and total closeness, and yet giving the air a certain electricity and tension that neither were fully ready to let go of. Not yet at least. 

“It makes sure scamps like you can’t do whatever you please with me.” Her fingers slid through the tassles on his scarf, making him hum softly.

“Now there’s a tempting notion...”

She shoved his shoulder and he laughed, and for the moment neither mind the darkness.

  
  
  


_ White _

Rif looked around at the line of ships, eyes bright as she examined them all. Each bound for worlds unknown. Each a potential vessel for the next stage in their journey. Behind her she hears the soft murmurs of Asra and Kai, and it provokes an eyeroll, but a gentle one. The fragile tension around them was growing more and more paper thin, and some days she genuinely considered locking them in a closet until the penny finally hit the ground.

Not today though. Today they wandered the docks, staring at ships and speculating. Half-formed plans of travel, of far off shores to wander and distant libraries to plunder.

Kai had some reservations, of course, with her family being so rooted in Vesuvia, but Rif suspected those reservations were in a deadlock with Asra’s smile.

She....well, she found she was having her own unexpected hang ups. She wasn’t exactly a stranger to travel, having roamed a good half of the country before she ever laid eyes on their tent. Once the idea of settling this long in a single city would have seemed nauseating to her. Nearly 4 years, of the same sights, and sounds, and smells...some days she could hear her younger self shudder. 

And yet, though she was excited to see more of the world, especially with reborn eyes, she found some part of herself had laid down roots in the city. There was a comfort to it, to knowing her place in a little piece of the world, a place where she had thrived. And that wasn’t even considering-...

More and more of late her thoughts had turned unbidden to the woods. Yes....truth be told she didn’t like the idea of leaving him behind either. She knew Asra had tried more than once to convince him to come with. He’d probably continue trying up until the night of, but unless the magician pulled a severe fast one, Rif had a feeling Muriel would stay. He had too little faith in humanity and too little like of crowds to venture from his home for even basic needs. He didn’t seem convinced that people would be different in Prakra or Nevivon. And for some reason, the idea of Muriel at home, the last bits of his connection to humanity gone for far off shores...it didn’t sit right in her chest.

Another thing her younger self would never understand. That care for another that sat heavy in your heart, and yet...the electric thrill of watching the excitement grow in a friends eyes. And as she watches Asra’s list with increasing energy all the things he’d like to see and experience, the fondness in Kai’s eyes mixing with her subtle jabs and practical concerns, and the lightness of her own laugh rising over cresting white waves....Well.

She’d traded up. 

Today was a day for light hearts, and the sense of peace that settled over her as they watched the sunset between the sails stayed with her long after waking hours. 

_ Red _

The plague burrowed into the bodies of the people of the city as the beetles ate their way into the water supply. Kai had seen a few of the victims, the scarlet sclera and pale, bloated bodies, but the severity of it had never truly hit home until she stood over her aunt’s deathbed.

The woman had never been healthy, and her poor constitution combined with her age made her a ready victim for the disease that seemed to have slipped into the city overnight. The doctors had come, and all three of them had tried....but there was nothing for it. Kai held her hand during her last breaths, moments after she left the shop to her. 

The grief was heavy, but it didn’t drown her. It had seemed like a thing that, with enough time, she could eventually outpace. 

But time, it seemed, was a limited resource in Vesuvia. Soon it wasn’t just the elderly, the children and the sickly that were victims. Perfectly healthy people would feel the nausea first, and then wake to the red creeping out of their irises. Death was a certainty. The lucky ones got merely a few extra days to settle their affairs.

And one by one, she watched more and more of her family succumb. Helpless in the face of it all.

Soon plague doctors and funeral processions littered the streets more than market vendors. Rif gave up her daily walks: the sight of the beggars who couldn’t afford the care was too much. Some, she noted, would stare at her hair like a harbinger. She took to tucking it into hats.

_ Black _

Kai grew to dread the sight of a black cloak, of the hooked nose mask with glassy red eyes. They were in the shop nearly every day, looking for herbs, devices, or just something to aid their own tiredness. Trying desperately to find the cure in magic when all their sciences seemed to have abandoned them. She’d spoken to Asra more than once about offering the palace their services, but there was risk in working for a man like Lucio. Especially since...

Well. The masses had needed a distraction to keep their minds off the death. And who might be responsible for not stopping the death. Lucio had found it, alright. In Muriel. Bloody matches to distract from the bloodier outside world. An odd solution, but it kept the populace spellbound.

Asra had never explained under what circumstances Muriel had become beholden to that man. Perhaps even he didn’t know. But there he was, trotted out like a trained bear once a week. When he wasn’t acting as their heel he was usually guarding Lucio. 

It sat right with none of them, but there were so many directions for their concerns to go in. Asra was nearly frantic most nights, poring over papers, making arrangements that he was being infuriatingly mysterious about. 

He wasn’t the only one who seemed elsewhere these days. No matter how much Kai and Asra tried to restrain her it seemed like there was nothing that could keep Rif from the Arena. She was usually barred entry these days for creating more than one disturbance, but it wouldn’t stop her from stalking outside the gates in some kind of self-imposed watch. When she wasn’t there, she was usually holed up in her room. Wasn’t coping well with this whole scenario. But then, none of them were.

Kai buried herself in her studies, searching frantically for any cure she could find. Anything to stop watching familiar eyes turned alien by disease, to stop the neverending cycle of mourning that her family was locked in. And yet, for all her efforts, all the “natural talent” Asra had ascribed to her, the best she could do was make them a bit more comfortable as they breathed their last.

She thought with envy of the resources at the palace. If she could gain access to it, combine it with her extensive knowledge of magic....but the only way to get in there was to join with Quaestor Valdemar’s veritable army of doctors. But Asra was insistent....

As it turned out, though, that wasn’t her only point of disagreement with the magician.

“I don’t understand why you’re both being unreasonable about this!” He shouted. Faust seemed startled by the raised voices and curled into his scarf. It was a testament to how angry they all were that they barely noticed the snake’s agitation.

“We can’t just pack up and leave!” Kai yelled back.

“Look, the plague hasn’t reached Nevivon. There’s a quarantine coming, this could be our last chance to get out of here!”

“What about Muriel?” Rif said. Eyes flashing. “Or Kai’s family? Or Selasi? Or the countess? Or-”

“I’m sorry!” He cut her off. His expression looked....indescribably sad. “But...I can’t save everyone. I’ve thought about it every way I can, but there’s just nothing we can-”

“So you’ll leave him?!”

“That’s not what I-!”

But Rif wasn’t hearing it. She turned tail and stormed back upstairs. They both winced at the slam of her door. 

Asra turned on Kai. “You understand, right? We can’t....” His hands rested on her shoulders. “Kai, we can’t stay here.”

“....I’m sorry, Asra, but I...” Her hands moved up to cover his own. “I can’t leave. I still have family here...”

“Kai...”

There was a long silence that hung in the air, heavy. She could see the debate going on behind Asra’s eyes, and suddenly something came tumbling out his mouth that he had been trying very hard to hold back.

“You know its a foregone conclusion, right?”

Another silence. Long, stretching out between them.

.....”what do you mean.” Kai said. She felt something inside her start to grow colder.

“I mean that...” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “They can’t be saved. I’m sorry, but they can’t. The best...the best thing you can do right now is save yourself-”

“Excuse me?” 

Her voice came out hard and biting, making him cringe back and quickly try to change tactics.

“I mean, your family wouldn’t-”

“So what, I burn my bridges before they can infect me?” She pulled out of his grasp, eyes burning. She could feel her blood boiling, fogging up her vision. “Is that what you meant?”

“Kai-”

“I’m not gonna leave them to die, you idiot!”

“So you’re just gonna die alongside them-”

“I’d take that over running like a coward!”

His fingers combed through his curls, tugging them in exasperation. “Why?! For what possible reason!”

“Loyalty, Asra! And the chance that maybe, just  _ maybe _ having someone around who knows what the fuck they’re talking about with magic might be a valuable resource from them to have around!”

“Sorry, I forgot, when did you become the master of magic in this relationship?” His voice bit with sarcasm. “Because last time I checked, you knew fuck all before I took you in!” Fuck, she was getting too emotional too fast, she was trying to fight back tears and she clenched her hands to keep them from shaking.

“Oh, fuck you, Asra!”

“I’m not gonna watch you die!” He grabbed her arms. She realized with a cold shock that there were tears in his eyes. “Either of you! You can’t make me watch that, Kai, I won’t allow-”

“Then LEAVE!” She burst out. Ripping out of his grip. “Run away if this scares you so bad. Hide somewhere where you don’t have to worry about this. But for the rest of us? We don’t have the luxury of pretending this doesn’t exist! Some of us still have family around we can save, so sorry if-”

It spilled out and she knew immediately she’d gone too far. A cold sweat broke out on her body as she watched him pitch back a step, like the words had physically staggered him. 

Silence.

And then without a word he grabbed his stuff from the counter. Face more distant and cold than she could ever remember seeing it.

“Asra, wait-”

He walked out the door despite her pleas. And she stood there, powerless as she watched him walk away.

She was up all night. Waiting for him to come back in. Even when daylight returned without him, she didn’t stop hoping. Asra could hold a grudge longer than anybody she knew, but....surely he couldn’t just....

And then the ship sailed out of port. Bound for Nevivon. The last boat that would be allowed out of the city while the plague lasted.

The next day Rif and Kai signed on with the Quaestor. 

_ White _

“The days are long but the weeks are short”, Dr. Devorak had told them when they first signed on. Very quickly, they came to grasp the truth of that statement.

Between the multitude of patients that needed attending to, as well as the perpetually shorthanded staff, the days seemed like a never-ending flood of blood and bile. Kai, with all her research in the months before, proved herself useful to the surgical team, helping Devorak (Julian, he’d asked her to call him) desperately hunt for a cure in the rare breathing moments between surgeries (or vivisections, as the case often was). Rif, with less knowledge but a stronger stomach, was moved to corpse detail, spending untold hours in the streets of Vesuvia, helping a team gather the bodies of those who hadn’t made it to the palace’s dungeons, trying to collect them before they could infect anymore water sources. 

Eighteen hour days for both of them were more than the norm: these days, they often felt like a light shift. And the mental strain further wore them down. Rif held up remarkably well, considering, but there were too many nights when Kai woke up to hear her sobs echoing in the cramped chamber they both shared. Nightmares of her work, rendering her unable to sleep. Kai, for her part, had taken to sleep walking, and had woken up more than once to Julian or Rif carefully trying to steer her away from the operating tables and back to bed. 

While Rif wore the dark coat and the bird mask that haunted the streets, Kai was allotted two white coats. Neither stayed white for long....

_ Red _

And yet, despite these long and demanding hours, it seemed there simply wasn’t enough time in the day. In each passing hour without a cure, more and more Vesuvians dropped dead. To complicate matters more, the disease had finally caught up with the Count. His grey eyes now had the telltale red blots.

Lucio had certainly lasted longer than the others. He had the benefit of 24/7 medical care. His important check ups he got from Julian and the Quaestor, but they were more often needed in the operating rooms. Rif had volunteered to take over the day to day work. Kai suspected this had more to do with the man guarding Lucio than anything else, but even still she didn’t envy her the task. The Count was still a petulant child, even in the throes of agony. 

Even in the midst of this darkness, though, there were bright spots. Rif’s biggest was Muriel. The big man was more reticent than ever these days, with a new range of scars that made her want to wince everytime she saw them. Still, with Lucio as sick as he was, the Count had lost his taste for gladiator battles, which at least kept Muriel out of the Arena. After months of him being locked away, even just being able to see him again....it was a relief, in some ways, even if they weren’t able to talk much. There were stolen moments, where they could reminisce. Where she could put her hand in his, and however miraculously, he wouldn’t pull away. For now that was enough to make her put up with a thousand screaming matches with a sickly tyrant.

For Kai, her bright spot was Julian. Even in the midst of all this death, the doctor had a sort of gallows humor that could defuse the tension, even if only for a little bit. The man was wary of magic, but also endlessly fascinated by it. When they had time (though they rarely did) he would interrogate her for a better understanding of the mechanics, taking studious notes even as he scoffed. In exchange, he would tell her stories. Lighter stories, of growing up in Nevivon with his sister and his grandmothers. They made her laugh, even if they seemed a thousand miles away from their current circumstances. She’d supply tales of her own, if she could find one sufficiently distant from anyone she’d lost. It couldn’t completely fill the hole left by Asra, but.....it could come close. Some days.

Between that and an elderly dog named Brundle she felt that maybe she could survive a little longer.

_ Black _

Still more weeks pass and yet still not a cure. Lucio has gotten worse. And still more impatient. Valdemar, unsatisfied with the dissection of patients, has lately taken to experimenting on fallen doctors. 

Rif’s hair has outgrown her dye. She has not had the chance to retouch it, and even if she had it, she doubted she would. She has had enough of red. The streets froth with it.

There is less time for stories, or even to eat most days. The city’s population is rotting from the inside out, it seems. Some of Kai’s family has beaten the odds and survived, and yet she lives in dread of the day that she comes to the operating table and finds a familiar face.

And yet, despite this, they both believe they can survive.

Until the day they are wrong.

Rif notices it first. A coughing fit that she previously blamed on overwork becomes more and more irrepressible, until she pulls her hand away from her mouth and sees blood seeping into her glove.

Its cowardice, she knows, but she hides it. Hopes that she’s wrong, when she knows beyond a doubt that she’s not. Muriel notices that all of a sudden she’s the one who’s reluctant to let them touch. She tries to spend more nights near Lucio’s chamber rather than in her room with Kai. She is trying to minimize her blast radius when she goes.

Which is why she feels like crying when Kai pulls her aside one day to show her the crimson tint coming into her eyes.

They sit there for a long moment. Feeling...for the first time, despair. Powerlessness. The disease has stopped being a dragon to slay, and instead become a part of them. An inevitability. 

“....so what do we do.” Rif said.

“We could...keep going.” Kai said. Voice quiet and fragile. “Hide it. Eventually it’ll catch up to us, of course, but-”

“Fuck that.” Rif said, closing her eyes and pushing some hair back as she sighed. “I’m not ending up one of Valdemar’s ‘anatomy’ lessons. How much you wanna bet he doesn’t even wait until we d-....” the word died in her throat.

“What’s the alternative?”

“....think Julian could sneak us out?”

“To where.”

“You know where.”

The Lazaret. Even the name of the place made their hearts sink into their shoes. 

“.....shit.”

“How do you think...” Kai swallowed hard. “Asra.” His name came out flat. It had been months since she’d said it out loud. “He deserves to...to have answers.”

“Um...” Rif was struggling to keep her voice stable. Sniffing a bit as she wiped her eyes. “....Muriel, probably. Or maybe Julian. Assuming....assuming they both make it.”

“Muriel will make it.” Kai said, remembering. “He never gets sick.”

“...Kai, I-” 

And suddenly they were both in tears.

Quietly sobbing across the room from each other. So desperately, desperately alone.

_ White _

Julian hadn’t taken the news well. Obviously. But in the end he’d agreed to get them out. Anything rather than...than letting them become test subjects.

It wasn’t easy. Doctors weren’t allowed to leave their post for any reason these days, much less three of them at once. Still, they’d somehow managed to get out of the palace, to the docks.

For the first time in nearly a year, they were both in civilian clothes. Nothing fancy. Just simple tunics and pants. Something that, should it be needed, could....could burn easily. 

Rif couldn’t help but feel a sense of cruel irony, reflecting on the last time she’d been here at the docks. Still a fleet of white sails, but they hung limp now. Asra was gone, and she was leaving with Kai, not by a triumphant ship to untold adventures, but on a rowboat, paddled by a black coated doctor, towards the last place she would ever want to be.

Kai’s fever had gotten worse. It made the already chilly winter air seem that much colder. She sat in the boat, waiting for Julian to finish preparing. He was in full doctor regalia to avoid raising suspicion. As far as any guard knew, they were just another two victims being carted to their last resting place. The bird mask made him seem...alien.

Kai, desperately trying to look at anything other than the Lazaret, chose to focus her attention on Rif, who still stood on the edge of the dock. “Are you getting in?”

“.....I thought maybe....” Her voice faltered a bit and she fell silent. “.....never mind.” She clambered in the boat. Sitting across from her.

Both their eyes were scarlet now.

Julian cast off.

The ride was silent. Even the good doctor seemed to be at a loss for words.

As Vesuvia started to grow distant, Rif’s eyes suddenly went wide and she jolted forward. “Wait-!”

“Hey!” Julian spluttered, struggling to keep the boat steady. Kai’s eyes followed her friends...and saw the unmistakeable figure of Muriel on the docks. Chest heaving like he had ran all the way there and shoulders sinking as he realized he’d been too late.

“We have to go back, I have to-!”

“Rif, I’m sorry, but the tides....”

“I don’t care! Take me back, I have to....I have to...” Tears were streaming out of her eyes and she looked at Kai, as lost as she felt on the inside. 

“...Rif, it might be easier if....”

Even as her voice trailed off Rif knew the answer.

The only way was forward.

She sobbed. And soon Kai did too.

This was it. She would...never see any of it again. The shop...the pumpkin bread stand...the forests....all of it had long ago been a distant memory, to be sure, but there had always been at least a possibility that they could return. Now...it was gone for good.

She’d never see Faust again

She’d never see Asra again. Never get a chance to...say sorry. Not necessarily for what she said (although some parts did merit apology), but...for letting it go this long. For not writing. For letting the last interaction be the worst one. 

  
  


_ Red _

Rif believes that if there’s a hell, it will only be able to poorly imitate the sheer atrocity of the Lazaret.

There is no feeling comparable to living every day among the dead and the dying, knowing that you are one of them. That everyone around you is waiting to drop, and that you too are waiting to drop, and there is no point in counting the days. 

The island reeks of smoke, so dense and heavy the sky is never visible. Its hardly worth trying to keep track of the time. She hasn’t seen a sunset in weeks, it feels like. The only light is the furnaces, burning hot and bright and torching the island with heat and a horrific, burning red.

She and Kai collapse in the same moment. On the sand. Heaving, with nothing left to heave, with no energy left to push anything out. And they collapse. And are still. They know these are the last moments.

If she had the energy, she would cry. She would beg. She would call for Asra, Muriel, her mother. Anyone. To come and save her. She wouldn’t wish this on anyone, and the horrific reality is that this is going to be the last thing she’s aware of.

Slowly she feels consciousness slip away. She is breathing, but only barely. And the few attendants the island has do not have time or will to distinguish between the dead and the nearly-dead. 

They get the stretchers.

_ White _

Kai’s vision is pure fog. She is vaguely aware of being lifted through the air, of weightlessness and a heat growing ever closer. But it seems distant, like a dream fading even as she experiences it. It is a thousand miles away from her and beyond notice.

She thinks instead of a shop, teeming with curiosities and colors she can scarcely recall now.

She thinks of a girl with scarlet hair and a boy with black, asleep against logs in front of a dying fire. Not a fire to consume, a campfire for warmth. And companionship.

She thinks of a periwinkle snake, nuzzling her affectionately with a slightly dopey smile. 

She thinks of a charming doctor with a coy, lazy smile.

She thinks of soft white curls, and violet eyes....

And then, there is unimaginable heat....

_ Black _

Brown, callused hands dig into the soil, coming away coated in soot and finely powdered bones. The last, ephemeral remains of a life that had once grounded him so firmly he never thought he’d want to drift away again.

He watched it scatter in the wind.


End file.
